by B. M. Bower
LORDS OF THE POTS AND PANS
The camp of the Flying U, snuggled just within the wide-flung arms ofan unnamed coulee with a pebbly-bottomed creek running across itsfront, looked picturesque and peaceful--from a distance.Disenchantment lay in wait for him who strayed close enough to hearthe wrangling in the cook-tent, however, or who followed Slim to wherehe slumped bulkily down into the shade of a willow fifty yards or sofrom camp--a willow where Pink, Weary, Andy Green and Irish were lyingsprawled and smoking comfortably.
Slim grunted and moved away from a grass-hidden rock that was gouginghim in the back. "By golly, things is getting pretty raw around thiscamp," he growled, by way of lifting the safety-valve of his anger."I'd like to know when that darned grub-spoiler bought into theoutfit, anyhow. He's been trying to run it to suit himself allspring--and if he keeps on, by golly, he'll be firing the wagon-bossand giving all the orders himself!"
It would seem that sympathy should be offered him; as if the pause hemade plainly hinted that it was expected. Andy Green rolled over andsent him a friendly glance just to hearten him a bit.
"We were listening to the noise of battle," he observed, "and we weregoing over, in a minute, to carry off the dead. You had a kindaanimated discussion over something, didn't yuh?" Andy was on his goodbehavior, as he had been for a month. His treatment of his fellowslately was little short of angelic. His tone soothed Slim to the pointwhere he could voice his woe.
"Well, by golly, I guess he knows what I think of him, or pretty near.I've stood a lot from Patsy, off and on, and I've took just about allI'm going to. It's got so yuh can't get nothing to eat, hardly, whenyuh ride in late, unless yuh fight for it. Why, by golly, I caught himjust as he was going to empty out the coffee-boiler--and he knewblamed well I hadn't eat. He'd left everything go cold, and he waspacking away the grub like he was late breaking camp and had a fortymile drive before dinner, by golly! I just did save myself somecoffee, and that was all--but it was cold as that creek, and--" Habitimpelled him to stop there long enough to run his tongue along theedge of a half-rolled cigarette, and accident caused his eyes to catchthe amused quirk on the lips of Pink and Irish, and the laughingglance they exchanged. Possibly if he could have looked in alldirections at the same time he would have been able to detect signs ofmirth on the faces of the others as well; for Slim's grievances neverseemed to be taken seriously by his companions--which is the pricewhich one must pay for having a body shaped like Santa Claus and aface copied after our old friend in the moon.
"Well, by golly, maybe it's funny--but I took notice yuh done someyowling, both uh yuh, the other day when yuh didn't get no pie," hesnorted, lighting his cigarette with unsteady fingers.
"We wasn't laughing at that," lied Pink pacifically.
"And then, by golly, the old devil lied to me and said there wasn't nopie left," went on Slim complainingly, his memory stirred by the taunthe had himself given. "But I wouldn't take his word for a thing if Iknew it was so; I went on a still-hunt around that tent on my ownhook, and I found a pie--a _whole pie_, by golly!--cached away underan empty flour-sack behind the stove! That," he added, staring,round-eyed, at the group, "that there was right where me and Patsymixed. The lying old devil said he never knew a thing about it beingthere at all."
Pink turned his head cautiously so that his eyes met the eyes of AndyGreen. The two had been at some pains to place that pie in a safeplace so that they might be sure of something appetizing when theycame in from standing guard that night, but neither seemed to think itnecessary to proclaim the fact and clear Patsy.
"I'll bet yuh didn't do a thing to the pie when yuh did find it?" Pinkhalf questioned, more anxious than he would have owned.
"By golly, I eat the whole thing and I cussed Patsy between everymouthful!" boasted Slim, almost in a good-humor again. "I sure got theold boy stirred up; I left him swearin' Dutch cuss-words that soundedlike he was peevish. But I'll betche he won't throw out the coffeetill I've had what I want after this, by golly!"
"Happy Jack is out yet," Weary observed after a sympathetic silence."You oughtn't to have put Patsy on the fight till everybody was filledup, Slim. Happy's liable to go to bed with an empty tummy, if yuhdon't ride out and warn him to approach easy. Listen over there!"
From where they lay, so still was the air and so incensed was Patsy,they could hear plainly the rumbling of his wrath while he talked tohimself over the dishwashing. When he appeared at the corner of thetent or plodded out toward the front of the wagon, his heavy tread andstiff neck proclaimed eloquently the mood he was in. They watched andlistened and were secretly rather glad they were fed and so need notface the storm which Slim had raised; for Patsy thoroughly roused wasvery much like an angry bull: till his rage cooled he would chargewhoever approached him, absolutely blind to consequences.
"Well, I ain't going to put nobody next," Slim asserted. "Happy's gotto take chances, same as I did. And while we're on the subject, Patsywas on the prod before I struck camp, or he wouldn't uh acted the wayhe done. Somebody else riled him up, by golly--I never."
"Well, you sure did put the finishing touches to him," contendedIrish, guiltily aware that he himself was originally responsible; forPatsy never had liked Irish very well because of certain incidentsconnected with his introduction to Weary's double. Patsy never couldquite forget, though he might forgive, and resentment lay always closeto the surface of his mood when Irish was near.
Happy Jack, hungry and quite unconscious that he was riding straightinto the trail of trouble, galloped around a ragged point ofservice-berry bushes, stopped with a lurch at the prostrate corral andunsaddled hastily. Those in the shade of the willow watched him, theirvery silence proclaiming loudly their interest. They might have warnedhim by a word, but they did not; for Happy Jack was never eager toheed warnings or to take advice, preferring always to abide by therule of opposites. Stiff-legged from long riding, the knees of hisold, leather chaps bulging out in transient simulation of bowed limbs,he came clanking down upon the cook-tent with no thought but to easehis hunger.
Those who watched saw him stoop and thrust his head into the tent,heard a bellow and saw him back out hastily. They chuckled unfeelinglyand strained ears to miss no word of what would follow.
"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack expostulated, not yet angry. "I got here quickas I could--and _I_ ain't heard nothing about no new laws uh gettinghere when the whistle blows. Gimme what there is, anyhow."
Some sentences followed which, because of guttural tones and Germanaccent emphasized by excitement, were not quite coherent to thelisteners. However, they did not feel at all mystified as to hismeaning--knowing Patsy as they did.
"Aw, come off! Somebody must uh slipped yuh a two-gallon jug uhsomething. I've rode the range about as long as you've cooked on it,and I never knowed a man to go without his supper yet, just because hecome in late. I betche yuh dassent stand and say that before Chip, yuhblamed old Dutch--" Just there, Happy Jack dodged and escaped gettingmore than a third of the basin of water which came splashing out ofthe tent.
The group under the willows could no longer lie at ease while theylistened; they jumped up and moved closer, just as a crowd always doessurge nearer and nearer to an exciting centre. They did not, however,interfere by word or deed.
"If yuh wasn't just about ready t' die of old age and generalcussedness," stormed Happy Jack, "I'd just about kill yuh for that."This, however, is a revised version and not intended to be exact. "Iwant my supper, and I want it blame quick, too, or there'll be a deadDutchman in camp. No, yuh don't! You git out uh that tent and lemmegit in, or--" Happy Jack had the axe in his hand by then, and he swungit fearsomely and permitted the gesture to round out his sentence.
Perhaps there would have been something more than words between them,for even a Happy Jack may be goaded too far when he is hungry; butChip, who had been washing out some handkerchiefs down by the creek,heard the row and came up, squeezing a ball of wet muslin on the way.He did not say much when he arrived, and he did not do anything mor
ethreatening than hang the handkerchiefs over the guy-ropes to dry,tying the corners to keep the wind from whipping them away up thecoulee, but the result was satisfying--to Happy Jack, at least. He ateand was filled, and Patsy retired from the fray, sullenly owningdefeat for that time at least. He went up the creek out of sight fromcamp, and he stayed there until the dusk was so thick that his big,white-aproned form was barely distinguishable in the gloom when hereturned.
At daylight he was his old self, except that he was perhaps a triflegruff when he spoke and a good deal inclined to silence, and harmonycame and abode for a season with the Flying U.
Patsy had for years cooked for Jim Whitmore and his "outfit"; so manyyears it was that memory of the number was never exact, and even theOld Man would have been compelled to preface the number with a fewminutes of meditation and a "Lemme see, now; Patsy's been cooking forme--eighty-six was that hard winter, and he come the spring--no, thefall before that. I know because he like to froze before we got themess-house chinked up good--I'll be doggoned if Patsy ain't gitting_old_!" That was it, perhaps: Patsy was getting old. And old age doesnot often sweeten one's temper, if you notice. Those angelic old menand old ladies have nearly all been immortalized in stories and songs,and the unsung remainder have nerves and notions and rheumatism andtongues sharpened by all the disappointments and sorrows of their longlives.
Patsy never had been angelic; he had always been the victim of more orless ill-timed humor on the part of the Happy Family, and the victimof hunger-sharpened tempers as well. He had always grumbled andrumbled Dutch profanity when they goaded him too hard, and hisamiability had ever expressed itself in juicy pies and puddings ratherthan in words. On this roundup, however, he was not often amiable andhe was nearly always rumbling to himself. More than that, he wasbecoming resentful of extra work and bother and he sometimes permittedhis resentment to carry him farther than was wise.
To quarrel with Patsy was rapidly becoming the fashion, and to gossipabout him and his faults was already a habit; a habit indulged in toofreely, perhaps, for the good of the camp. Isolation from the worldbrings small things into greater prominence than is normally theirdue, and large troubles are born of very small irritations.
For two days there was peace of a sort, and then Big Medicine, havingeaten no dinner because of a headache, rode into camp about threeo'clock and headed straight for the mess-wagon, quite as if he had aright that must not be questioned. Custom did indeed warrant him inlunching without the ceremony of asking leave of the cook, for Patsyeven in his most unpleasant moods had never until lately tried to stopanyone from eating when he was hungry.
On this day, however, Big Medicine unthinkingly cut into a fresh-bakedpie set out to cool. There were other pies, and in cutting one BigMedicine was supported by precedent; but Patsy chose to consider it anaffront and snatched the pie from under Big Medicine's very nose.
"You fellers vot iss always gobbling yet, you iss quit it alreatty!"rumbled Patsy, bearing the pie into the tent with Big Medicine's knifestill lying buried in the lately released juice. "I vork und vork minehead off keeping you fellers filled oop tree times a day alreatty; Inot vork und vork to feed you effery hour, py cosh. You go mitout tillsupper iss reaty for you yet."
Big Medicine, his frog-like eyes standing out from his sun-reddenedface, stared agape. "Well, by cripes!" He hesitated, looking abouthim; but whether his search was for more pie or for moral support hedid not say. Truth to tell, there was plenty of both. He reached foranother pie and another knife, and he grinned his wide grin at Irish,who had just come up. "Dutchy's trying to run a whizzer," he remarked,cutting a defiant gash clean across the second pie. "What do yuh knowabout that?"
"He's often took that way," said Irish soothingly. "You don't want allthat pie--give me about half of it."
Big Medicine, his mouth too full for coherent utterance, waved hishand and his knife toward the shelf at the back of the mess-wagonwhere three more pies sat steaming in the shade. "Help yourself," heinvited juicily when he could speak.
Those familiar with camp life in the summer have perhaps observed themiraculous manner in which a million or so "yellow-jackets" will comeswarming around when one opens a can of fruit or uncovers the sugarjar. It was like that. Irish helped himself without any hesitationwhatever, and he had not taken a mouthful before Happy Jack, Weary andPink were buzzing around for all the world like the "yellow-jackets"mentioned before. Patsy buzzed also, but no one paid the slightestattention until the last mouthful of the last pie was placed inretirement where it would be most appreciated. Then Weary became awareof Patsy and his wrath, and turned to him pacifically.
"Oh, yuh don't want to worry none about the pie," he smiled winninglyat him. "Mamma! How do you expect to keep pies around this camp whenyuh go right on making such good ones? Yuh hadn't ought to be such acrackajack of a cook, Patsy, if you don't want folks to eat themselvessick."
If any man among them could have soothed Patsy, Weary would certainlyhave been the man; for next to Chip he was Patsy's favorite. To saythat he failed is only one way of making plain how great was Patsy'sindignation.
"Aw, yuh made 'em to be eat, didn't yuh?" argued Happy Jack. "Whatdifference does it make whether we eat 'em now or two hours from now?"
Patsy tried to tell them the difference. He called his hands and hishead to help his rage-tangled tongue and he managed to make himselfvery well understood. They did not argue the fine point of gastronomicethics which he raised, though they felt that his position was notunassailable and his ultimate victory not assured.
Instead, they peered into boxes and cans which were covered, gleaned awhole box of seeded raisins and some shredded cocoanut just to teasehim and retired to wrangle ostentatiously over their treasure trove inthe shade of the bed-tent, leaving Patsy to his anger and his emptytins.
Other men straggled in, drifted with the tide of their appetites tothe cook-tent, hovered there briefly and retired vanquished and stillhungry. They invariably came over to the little group which wasmunching raisins and cocoanut and asked accusing questions. What wasthe matter with Patsy? Who had put him on the fight like that? andother inquiries upon the same subject.
Just because they were all lying around camp with nothing to do buteat, Patsy was late with his supper that night. It would seem that hedallied purposely and revengefully, and though the Happy Family flungat him taunts and hurry-up orders, it is significant that they shoutedfrom a distance and avoided coming to close quarters.
Just how and when they began their foolish little game of imitationbroncho-fighting does not matter. When work did not press and redblood bubbled they frequently indulged in "rough-riding" one anotherto the tune of much taunting and many a "Bet yuh can't pitch _me_off!" Before supper was called they were hard at it and they quiteforgot Patsy.
"I'll give any man a dollar that can ride me straight up, by cripes!"bellowed Big Medicine, going down upon all fours by way of invitation.
"Easy money, and mine from the start!" retorted Irish and immediatelystraddled Big Medicine's back. Horses and riders pantingly gave overtheir own exertions and got out of the way, for Big Medicine playedbronk as he did everything else: with all his heart and soul andmuscles, and since he was strong as a bull, riding him promised muchin the way of excitement.
"Yuh can hold on by my collar, but if yuh choke me down I'll murderyuh in cold blood," he warned Irish before he started. "And don't yuhdig your heels in my ribs neither, or I'm liable to bust every boneyuh got to your name. I'm ticklish, by cripes!"
"I'll ride yuh with my arms folded if yuh say so," Irish offeredgenerously. "Move, you snail!" He struck Big Medicine spectacularlywith his hat, yelled at the top of his voice and the riding beganimmediately and tumultuously.
It is very difficult to describe accurately and effectively theevolutions of a horse when he "pitches" his worst and hardest. It isstill more difficult to set down in words the gyrations of a man whenhe is playing that he is a broncho and is trying to dislodge thefellow upon his back.
Big Medicine reared and kicked and bellowed andsnorted. He came down upon a small "pin-cushion" cactus and wasobliged to call a recess while he extracted three cactus spines fromhis knee with his smallest knife-blade and some profanity.
He rolled down his trousers' leg, closed his knife and tossed it toPink for fear he might lose it, examined critically a patch of grassto make sure there were no more cacti hidden there and bawled: "Comeon, now, I'll sure give yuh a run for your money _this_ time, bycripes!" and began all over again.
How human muscles can bear the strain he put upon his own must bealways something of a mystery. He described curves in the air whichwould sound incredible; he "swapped ends" with all the ease of a realfighting broncho and came near sending Irish off more than once.Insensibly he neared the cook-tent, where Patsy so far forgot himselfas to stand just without the lifted flap and watch the fun with sourinterest.
"Ah-h _want_ yuh!" yelled Big Medicine, quite purple but far fromsurrender, and gave a leap.
"Go _get_ me!" shouted Irish, whipping down the sides of his mountwith his hat.
Big Medicine answered the taunt by a queer, twisted plunge which hehad saved for the last. It brought Irish spread-eagling over his head,and it landed him fairly in the middle of Patsy's great pan of softbread "sponge"--and landed him upon his head into the bargain. Irishwriggled there a moment and came up absolutely unrecognizable and agood deal dazed. Big Medicine rolled helplessly in the grass, laughinghis big, bellowing laugh.
It was straight into that laugh and the great mouth from where itissued, that Patsy, beside himself with rage at the accident,deposited all the soft dough which was not clinging to the head andface of Irish. He was not content with that. While the Happy Familyroared appreciation of the spectacle, Patsy returned with a kettle ofmeat and tried to land that neatly upon the dough.
"Py cosh, if dat iss der vay you wants your grub, py cosh, dat iss dervay you gets it alreatty!" he brought the coffee-boiler and threw thatalso at the two, and followed it with a big basin of stewed corn.
Irish, all dough as he was, went for him blindly and grappled withhim, and it was upon this turbulent scene which Chip looked first whenhe rode up. The Happy Family crowded around him gasping and tried toexplain.
"They were doing some rough-riding--"
"By golly, Patsy no business to set his bread dough on the ground!"
"He's throwed away all the supper there is, and I betche--"
"Mamma! Yuh sure missed it, Chip. You ought--"
"By cripes, if that Dutch--"
"Break away there, Irish!" shouted Chip, dismounting hurriedly. "Hasit got so you must fight an old man like that?"
"Py cosh, _I'll_ fight mit him alreatty! I'll fight mit any mans vatshpoils mine bread. Maybe I'm old yet but I ain't dead yet und I couldfight--" The words came disjointedly, mere punctuation points to hiswild sparring.
It was plain that Irish, furious though he was, was trying not to hurtPatsy very much; but it took four men to separate them for all that.When they had dragged Irish perforce down to the creek by which theyhad camped, and had yelled to Big Medicine to come on and feed thefish, quiet should have been restored--but it was not.
Patsy was, in American parlance, running amuck. He was jumbling threelanguages together into an indistinguishable tumult of sound and hewas emptying the cook-tent of everything which his stout, Germanmuscles could fling from it. Not a thing did he leave that was eatableand the dishes within his reach he scattered recklessly to all thewinds of heaven. When one venturesome soul after another approached tocalm him, he found it expedient to duck and run to cover. Patsy's aimwas terribly exact.
The Happy Family, under cover or at a safe distance from the hurtlingpans, cans and stove wood, caressed sundry bumps and waited meekly.Irish and Big Medicine, once more disclosing the features God hadgiven them, returned by a circuitous route and joined their fellows.
"Look at 'em over there--he's emptying every grain uh rolled oats onthe ground!" Happy Jack was a "mush-fiend." "Somebody better go overand stop 'im--"
"You ain't tied down," suggested Cal Emmett rather pointedly, andHappy Jack said no more.
Chip, usually so incisively clear as to his intentions and his duties,waited irresolutely and dodged missiles along with the rest of them.When Patsy subsided for the very good reason that there was nothingelse which he could throw out, Chip took the matter up with him andtold him quite plainly some of the duties of a cook, a few of hisprivileges and all of his limitations. The result, however, was notquite what he expected. Patsy would not even listen.
"Py cosh, I not stand for dose poys no more," he declared, wagging hishead with its shiny crown and the fringe of grizzled hair around theback. "I not cook grub for dat Irish und dat Big Medicine und HappyJack und all dose vat cooms und eats mine pies und shpoils mine preadund makes deirselves fools all der time. If dose fellers shtay on discamp I quits him alreatty." To make the bluff convincing he untied hisapron, threw it spitefully upon the ground and stamped upon itclumsily, like a maddened elephant.
"Well, quit then!" Chip was fast losing his own temper, what with theheat and his hunger and a general distaste for camp troubles. "Thisjangling has got to stop right here. We've had about enough of it inthe last month. If you can't cook for the outfit peaceably--" He didnot finish the sentence, or if he did the distance muffled the words,for he was leading his horse back to the vicinity of the rope corralthat he might unsaddle and turn him loose.
He heard several voices muttering angrily, but his wrath was ever ofthe stiff-necked variety so that he would not look around to see whatwas the matter. The tumult grew, however, until when he did turn hesaw Patsy stalking off across the prairie with his hat on and his coatfolded neatly over his arm, and Irish and Big Medicine fightingwickedly in the open space between the two tents. He finishedunsaddling and then went stalking over to quell this latestdevelopment.
"They're trying to find out who was to blame," Weary informed him whenhe was quite close. "Bud hasn't got much tact: he called Irish adough-head. Irish didn't think it was true humor, and he hit Bud onthe nose. He claims that Bud pitched him into that dishpan uh doughwith malice aforethought. Better let 'em argue the point to a finish,now they're started. It's black eyes for the peacemaker--you believe_me_."
While the dusk folded them close and the nighthawks swooped from afar,the Happy Family gathered round and watched them fight. Chip and Wearythoughtfully went into the bed-tent and got the guns which were stowedaway in the beds of the combatants, so that when their anger reachedthe killing point they must let it bubble harmlessly until the fireswhich fed it went cold. Which was exceeding wise of the two, for BigMedicine and Irish did get to that very point and raged all over thecamp because they could not shoot each other.
The hottest battle must perforce end sometime, and so the camp of theFlying U did at last settle into some semblance of calm. Irish rolledhis bed, saddled a horse and rode off toward town, quite as if he weregoing for good and all. Big Medicine went down to the creek for thesecond time that evening to wash away the marks of strife, and when hereturned he went straight to bed without a word to anyone. Patsy wasgone, no man knew whither, and the cook-tent was as nearly wrecked asmight be.
"Makes me think uh that time we had the ringtailed tiger in camp,"sighed Andy Green, shaking sand out of the teakettle so that it couldbe refilled.
"By golly, I'd ruther have a whole band uh tagers than this fightingbunch," Slim affirmed earnestly. Slim was laboring sootily with thestove-pipe which Patsy had struck askew with a stick of wood.
Outside, Happy Jack was protesting in what he believed to be anundertone against being installed in Patsy's place. "Aw, that's alwaysthe way! Anything comes up, it's 'Happy, you git in and rustle somechuck.' _I_ ain't no cook--or if I be they might pay me cook's wages.I betche there ain't another man in camp would stand for it.Somebody's got to take that bacon down to the creek and wash it off,if yuh want any meat for supper. There ain't no time to boil beef. IfI'd a been boss uh this o
utfit, I betche no blame cook on earth woulduh made rough-house like Patsy done." But no one paid the slightestattention to Happy Jack, having plenty to think of and to do beforethey slept.
Not even the sun, when it shone again, could warm their hearts to ajoy in living. Happy Jack cooked the breakfast, but his coffee wasweak and his biscuits "soggy," and Patsy had managed to make thebutter absolutely uneatable with sand; also they were late and Chipwas surly over the double loss of cook and cowboy. Happy Jack packedfood and dishes in much the same spirit which Patsy had shown thenight before, climbed sullenly to the high seat, gathered up the reinsof the four restive horses, released the brake and let out a yellsurcharged with all the bitterness bottled within his soul. _He_ hadnot done anything to precipitate the trouble. Beyond eating half a piehe had been an innocent spectator, not even taking part in therough-riding. Yet here he was, condemned to the mess-wagon quite as ifhe were to blame for Patsy's leaving. The eyes of Happy Jack gazedgloomily upon the world, and his driving seemed a reckless invitationto disaster. "I betche I'll make 'em good and sick uh _my_ cooking!"he plotted while he went rattling and bumping over the untrailedprairie.
He succeeded so well that two days later Chip gave a curt order or twoand headed his wagons, horses and his lean-stomached bunch of ridersfor Dry Lake, passing by even the Flying U coulee in his haste. Justoutside the town, upon the creek which saves the inhabitants fromdying of thirst or _delirium tremens_, he left the wagons with HappyJack, Slim and one alien to set up camp and rode dust-dogged to thelittle, red depot.
The telegram which went speeding to Great Falls and to a friend therewas brief, but it was eloquent and not quite flattering to Happy Jack.It read like this:
"JOHN G. SCOTT,
"The Palace, Great Falls.
"For God's sake send me a cook by return train; must deliver goods or die hard.
"BENNETT, Flying U."
Whether the cook must die hard, or whether he meant the friend, Chipdid not trouble to make plain. Telegrams are bound by such rigidlimitations, and he had gone over the ten-word rate as it was. But hetold Weary to receive the cook, be he white or black, have him restockthe mess-wagon to his liking and then bring the outfit to the ranch,when Chip would again take it in hand. He said that he was going hometo get a square meal, and he mentioned Happy Jack along with severalprofane words. "Johnny Scott will send a cook, and a good one,"; headded hopefully. "Johnny never threw down a friend in his life and henever will. And say, Weary, if he wires, you collect the message andact accordingly. I'm going to have a decent supper, to-night!" He wasriding a good horse and there was no reason why he should be late inarriving, especially if he kept the gait at which he left town.
In two hours Weary, Pink and Andy Green were touching hat-brims over atelegram from Johnny Scott--a telegram which was brief as Chip's, andmore illuminating:
"CHIP BENNETT,
"Dry Lake.
"Kidnaped Park hotel chef best cook in town will be on next train. J.G. SCOTT."
"Sounds good," mused Andy, reading it for the fourth time. "Butthere's thirteen words in that telegram, if yuh notice."
"I wish yuh wouldn't try to butt in on Happy Jack's specialty," Wearyremonstrated, folding the message and slipping it inside the yellowenvelope. "If this is the same jasper that cooked there a month ago,we're going to eat ourselves plumb to death; a better meal I neverlaid away inside me than the one I got at the Park Hotel when I was upthere last time. Come on over to the hotel and eat; their chuck isn'tthe best in the world, but it could be a lot worse and still beatHappy Jack to a jelly."
PART TWO
The whole Happy Family--barring Happy Jack, who was sulking in campbecause of certain things which had been said of his cooking and whichhe had overheard--clanked spurs impatiently upon the platform andwaited for the arrival of the train from the West. When at last itsnorted into town and nosed its way up to the platform they bunchedinstinctively and gazed eagerly at the steps which led down from thesmoker.
A slim little man in blue serge, a man with the complexion of a stripof rawhide and the mustache of a third-rate orchestra leader, felt hisway gingerly down by the light of the brakeman's lantern, hesitatedand then came questioningly toward them, carrying with some difficultya bulky suitcase.
"It's him, all right," muttered Pink while they waited.
The little man stopped apologetically before the group, indistinct inthe faint light from the office window. Already the train was slidingaway into the dark. "Pardon," he apologized. "I am looking for the Ufich flies."
"This is it," Weary assured him gravely. "We'll take yuh right on outto camp. Pretty dark, isn't it? Let me take your grip--I know the waybetter than you do." Weary was not in the habit of making himself aporter for any man's accommodation, but the way back to where they hadleft the horses was dark, and the new cook was very small and slight.They filed silently back to Rusty Brown's place, invited the cook infor a drink and were refused with soft-voiced regret and the graciousassurance that he would wait outside for them.
Weary it was, and Pink to bear him company, who piloted the strangerout to camp and showed him where he might sleep in Patsy's bed. Patsyhad left town, the Happy Family had been informed, with thedeclaration often repeated that he was "neffer cooming back alreatty."He had even left behind him his bed and his clothes rather than meetagain any member of the Flying U outfit.
"We'd like breakfast somewhere near sunrise," Weary told the cook atparting. "Soon as the store opens in the morning, we'll drive in andyou can stock up the wagon; we're pretty near down to cases, judgingfrom the meals we have been getting lately. Hope yuh make out allright."
"I will do very nicely, I thank you," smiled the new cook in the lightof the lantern which stood upon the fireless cook-stove. "I wish yougood-night, gentlemen, and sweet dreams of loved ones."
"Say, he's a polite son-of-a-gun," Pink commented when they wereriding back to town. "'The U fich flies'--that's a good one! What ishe, do you thing? French?"
"He's liable to be most anything, and I'll gamble he can build a gooddinner for a hungry man. That's the main point," said Weary.
At daybreak Weary woke and heard him humming a little tune while hemoved softly about the cook-tent and the mess-wagon, evidentlysearching mostly for the things which were not there, to judge fromstray remarks which interrupted the love song. "Rolled oat--I do notfind him," he heard once. And again: "Where the clean towels they are,that I do not discover." Weary smiled sleepily and took another nap.
The cook's manner of announcing breakfast was such that it awoke evenJack Bates, notoriously a sleepy-head, and Cal Emmett who was almostas bad. Instead of pounding upon a pan and lustily roaring"_Grub-pi-i-ile!_" in the time-honored manner of roundup cooks, hecame softly up to the bed-tent, lifted a flap deprecatingly andannounced in a velvet voice:
"Breakfast is served, gentlemen."
Andy Green, whose experiences had been varied, sat up and blinked atthe gently swaying flap where the cook had been standing. "Say, whatwe got in camp?" he asked curiously. "A butler?"
"By golly, that's the way a cook _oughta_ be!" vowed Slim, and reachedfor his hat.
They dressed hastily and trooped down to the creek for their morningablutions, and hurried back to the breakfast which waited. The newcook was smiling and apologetic and anxious to please. The HappyFamily felt almost as if there were a woman in camp and became verypolite without in the least realizing that they were not behaving inthe usual manner, or dreaming that they were unconsciously trying tolive up to their chef.
"The breakfast, it is of a lacking in many things fich I shallendeavor to remedy," he assured them, pouring coffee as if he wereserving royalty. He was dressed immaculately in white cap and apron,and his mustache was waxed to a degree which made it resemble a cat'swhiskers. The Happy Family tasted the coffee and glanced eloquently atone another. It was better than Patsy's coffee, even; and as for HappyJack--
There were biscuits, the like of which they ne
ver had tasted before.The bacon was crisp and delicately brown and delicious, the potatoescooked in a new and enticing way. The Happy Family showed itsappreciation as seemed to them most convincing: They left not a scrapof anything and they drank two cups of coffee apiece when that was nottheir habit.
Later, they hitched the four horses to the mess-wagon, learned thatthe new cook, though he deeply regretted his inefficiency, did notdrive anything. "The small burro," he explained, "I ride him, yes, andalso the automobile drive I when the way is smooth. But the horses Imake not acquainted with him. I could ride upon the elevated seat,yes, but to drive the quartet I would not presume."
"Happy, you'll have to drive," said Weary, his tone a command.
"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack objected, "He rode out here all right lastnight--unless somebody took him up in front on the saddle, which Ihain't heard about nobody doing. A cook's supposed to do his owndriving. I betche--"
Weary went close and pointed a finger impressively. "Happy, you_drive_," he said, and Happy Jack turned without a word and climbedglumly up to the seat of the mess-wagon.
"Well, are yuh coming or ain't yuh?" he inquired of the cook in a tonesurcharged with disgust.
"If you will so kindly permit, it give me great pleasure to ride withyou and to make better friendship. It now occurs to me that I have notyet introduce. Gentlemen, Jacques I have the honor to be name. I amdelighted to meet you and I hope for pleasant association." The bow hegave the group was of the old school.
Big Medicine grinned suddenly and came forward. "Honest to grandma,I'm happy to know yuh!" he bellowed, and caught the cook's hand in agrip that sent him squirming upon his toes. "These here are myfriends: Happy Jack up there on the wagon, and Slim and Weary and Pinkand Cal and Jack Bates and Andy Green--and there's more scatteredaround here, that don't reely count except when it comes to eating. Welike you, by cripes, and we like your cookin' fine! Now, you amblealong to town and load up with the best there is--huh?" It occurred tohim that his final remarks might be construed as giving orders, and heglanced at Weary and winked to show that he meant nothing serious. "Solong, Jakie," he added over his shoulder and went to where his horsewaited.
Jacques--ever afterward he was known as "Jakie" to the FlyingU--clambered up the front wheel and perched ingratiatingly besideHappy Jack, and they started off behind the riders for the short mileto Dry Lake. Immediately he proceeded to win Happy from his glumaloofness.
"I would say, Mr. Happy, that I should like exceeding well to befriends together," he began purringly. "So superior a gentleman mustwin the admiration of the onlooker and so I could presume to questionfor advisement. I am experience much dexterity for cooking, yes, but Iam yet so ignorant concerning the duties pertaining to camp. If thedriving of these several horses transpire to pertain, I will so gladlyreceive the necessary instruction and endeavor to fulfil theaccomplishment. Yes?"
Happy Jack, more in stupefaction at the cook's vocabulary thananything else, turned his head and took a good look at him. And thetrustful smile of Jakie went straight to the big, soft heart of himand won him completely. "Aw, gwan," he adjured gruffly to hide hissurrender. "I don't mind driving for yuh. It ain't that I was kickingabout."
"I thank you for the so gracious assurement. If I transgress not toogreatly, I should like for inquire what is the chuck for which I amtold to fill the wagon. I do not," he added humbly, "understand yetall the language of your so glorious country, for fich I have sodiligently study the books. Words I have not yet assimilatedcompletely, and the word chuck have yet escape my knowledge."
"Chuck," grinned Happy Jack, "is grub."
"Chuck, it is grub," repeated Jakie thoughtfully. "And grub, thatis--Yes?"
Happy Jack struggled mentally with the problem. "Well, grub is grub;all the stuff yuh eat is grub. Meat and flour and coffee and--"
"Ah, the light it dawns!" exclaimed Jakie joyously. "Grub it is thesupply of provision fich I must obtain for camping, yes? I thank youso graciously for the information; because," he added a bit wistfully,"that little word chuck she annoy me exceeding and make me for notsleep that I must grasp the meaning fich elude. I am now happy that Ido not make the extensive blunder for one small word fich I apprehendmust be a food fich I must buy and perhaps not to understand thepreparation of it. Yes? It is the excellent jest at the expense ofme."
"There ain't much chuck in camp," Happy observed helpfully, "so yuhmight as well start in and get anything yuh want to cook. The outfitis good about one thing They don't never kick on the stuff yuh eat.The cook always loads up to suit himself, and nobody don't askquestions or make a holler--so long as there's plenty and it's good."
Jakie listened attentively, twisting his mustache ends absently. "Itis simply that I purchase the supplies fich I shall choose for myjudgment," he observed, to make quite sure that he understood. "I amto have _carte blanche_, yes?"
"Sure, if yuh want it," said Happy Jack. "Only they might not keep ithere. Yuh can't get _everything_ in a little place like this." It isonly fair to Happy Jack to state that he would have understood theterm if he had seen it in print. It was the pronunciation which madethe words strange to him.
Jakie looked puzzled, but being the soul of politeness he made nocomment--perhaps because Happy Jack was at that moment bringing hisfour horses to a reluctant stand at the wide side-door of the store.
"The horses, they are of the vivacious temperament, yes?" Jakie hadscrambled from the seat to within the door and was standing theresmiling appreciatively at the team.
"Aw, they're all right. You go on in--I guess Weary's there. If heain't, you go ahead and get what yuh want. I'll be back after awhile."Thirst was calling Happy Jack; he heeded the summons and disappeared,leaving the new cook to his own devices.
So, it would seem, did every other member of the Flying U. Weary hadbeen told that Miss Satterly was in town, and he forgot all aboutJakie in his haste to find her. No one else seemed to feel anyresponsibility in the matter, and the store clerks did not care whatthe Flying U outfit had to eat. For that reason the chuck-wagoncontained in an hour many articles which were strange to it, andlacked a few things which might justly be called necessities.
"Say, you fellows are sure going to live swell," one of the clerksremarked, when Happy Jack finally returned. "Where did yuh pick hisnibs? Ain't he a little bit new and shiny?"
"Aw, he's all right," Happy Jack defended jealously. "He's a real_chaff_, and he can build the swellest meals yuh ever eat. Patsy can'tcook within a mile uh him. And _clean_--I betche _he_ don't keep hisbread-dough setting around on the ground for folks to tromp on." Whichproves how completely Jakie had subjugated Happy Jack.
That night--nobody but the horse-wrangler and Happy Jack had shown upat dinner-time--the boys of the Flying U dined luxuriously at theirnew-made camp upon the creek-bank at the home ranch, and ate thingswhich they could not name but which pleased wonderfully their palates.There was a salad to tempt an epicure, and there was a pudding thelike of which they had never tasted. It had a French name which leftthem no wiser than before asking for it, and it looked, as Pinkremarked, like a snowbank with the sun shining on it, and it tastedlike going to heaven.
"It makes me plumb sore when I think of all the years I've stood forPatsy's slops," sighed Cal Emmett, rolling over upon his back becausehe was too full for any other position--putting it plainly.
"By golly, I never knowed there was such cookin' in the world," echoedSlim. "Why, even Mis' Bixby can't cook that good."
"The Countess had ought to come down and take a few lessons," declaredJack Bates emphatically. "I'm going to take up some uh that puddingand ask her what she thinks of it."
"Yuh can't," mourned Happy Jack. "There ain't any left--and I nevergot more'n a taste. Next time, I'm going to tell Jakie to make it in awash tub, and make it full; with some uh you gobblers in camp--"
He looked up and discovered the Little Doctor approaching with Chip.She was smiling a friendly welcome, and she was curious about the newcook. By the time she h
ad greeted them all and had asked all thequestions she could think of and had gone over to meet Jakie and totaste, at the urgent behest of the Happy Family, a tiny morsel ofsalad which had been overlooked, it would seem that the triumph of thenew cook was complete and that no one could possibly give a thought toold Patsy.
The Little Doctor, however, seemed to regret his loss--and that in theface of the delectable salad and the smile of Jakie. "I do think it'sa shame that Patsy left the way he did," she remarked to the HappyFamily in general, being especially careful not to look toward BigMedicine. "The poor old fellow _walked_ every step of the way to theranch, and Claude"--that was Chip's real name--"says it wastwenty-five or six miles. He was so lame and he looked so old andso--well, friendless, that I could have _cried_ when he came limpingup to the house! He had walked all night, and he got here just atbreakfast time and was too tired to eat.
"I dosed him and doctored his poor feet and made him go to bed, and heslept all that day. He wanted to start that night for Dry Lake, but ofcourse we wouldn't let him do that. He was wild to leave, however, soJ.G. had to drive him in the next day. He went off without a word toany of us, and he looked so utterly dejected and so--so _old_. Claudesays he acted perfectly awful in camp, but I'm sure he was sorry forit afterwards. J.G. hasn't got over it yet; I believe he has taken itto heart as much as Patsy seemed to do. He's had Patsy with him for solong, you see--he was like one of the family." She stopped andregarded the Happy Family a bit anxiously. "This new cook is a verynice little man," she added after a minute, "but after all, he isn'tPatsy."
The Happy Family did not answer, and they refrained from looking atone another or at the Little Doctor.
At last Big Medicine brought his big voice into the awkward silence."Honest to grandma, Mrs. Chip," he said earnestly, "I'd give a lotright now to have old Patsy back--er--just to have _around_, if itmade him feel bad to leave. I reckon maybe that was my fault: I hadn'toughta pitched quite so hard, and I had oughta looked where I wasthrowin' m' rider. I reelize that no cook likes to have a fellowstandin' on his head in a big pan uh bread-sponge, on generalprinciples if not on account uh the bread. Uh course, we've all knowedold Patsy to take just about as great liberties himself with hissponge--but we've got to recollect that it was _his_ dough, by cripes,and that pipe ashes ain't the same as a fellow takin' a shampoo in thepan. No, I reelize that I done wrong, and I'm willin' to apologize forit right here and now. At the same time," he ended dryly, "I will ownthat I'm dead stuck on little Jakie, and I'd ruther ride for theFlying U and eat Jakie's grub than any other fate I can think of rightnow. Whilst I'm sorry for what I done, yuh couldn't pry me loose fromJakie with a stick uh dynamite--and that's a fact, Mrs. Chip."
The Little Doctor laughed, pushed back her hair in the way she had,glanced again at the unresponsive faces of the original members of theHappy Family and gave up as gracefully as possible.
"Oh, of course Patsy's an old crank, and Jakie's a waxed angel," shesurrendered with a little grimace. "You think so now, but that'sbecause you are being led astray by your appetites, like all men. Youjust wait: You'll be _homesick_ for a sight of that fat, bald-headed,cranky old Patsy bouncing along on the mess-wagon and swearing inDutch at his horses, before you're through. If you're not socompletely gone over to Jakie that you will eat nothing but what hehas cooked, come on up to the house. The Countess is making atwogallon freezer of ice-cream for you, and she has a big pan of angelcake to go with it! You don't deserve it--but come along anyway."Which was another endearing way of the Little Doctor's--the way ofsweetening all her lectures with something very nice at the end.
The Happy Family felt very much ashamed and very sorry that they couldnot feel kindly toward Patsy, even to please the Little Doctor. Theysincerely wanted to please her and to have her unqualified approval;but wanting Patsy back, or feeling even the slightest regret that hewas gone, seemed to them a great deal too much to ask of them. Sincethis is a story of cooks and of eating, one may with propriety add,however, that the invitation to ice cream and angel cake, comingthough it did immediately after that wonderful supper of Jakie's, wasaccepted with alacrity and their usual thoroughness of accomplishment;not for the world would they have offended the Little Doctor bydeclining so gracious an invitation--the graciousness being manifestedin her smile and her voice rather than in the words she spoke--leavingout the enchantment which hovers over the very name of angel cake andice cream. The Happy Family went to bed that night as complacentlyuncomfortable as children after a Christmas dinner.
Not often does it fall to the lot of a cowboy to have served to himstuffed olives and lobster salad with mayonnaise dressing, Frenchfried potatoes and cream puffs from the mess-tent of a roundup outfit.During the next week it fell to the lot of the Happy Family, however.When the salads and the cream puffs disappeared suddenly and the smileof Jakie became pensive and contrite, the Happy Family, actingindividually but unanimously, made inquiries.
"It is that I no more possess the fresh vegetables, nor the eggs,gentlemen," purred Jakie. "Many things of a deliciousness must I nowabstain because of the absence of two, three small eggs! But see, onebrief arrival in the small town would quickly remedy, yes? It is thatwe return with haste that I may buy more of the several articles forfich I require?" He spread his small hands appealingly.
"By golly, _Patsy_ never had no eggs--" began Slim traitorously.
"Aw, gwan! Patsy never fed yuh like Jakie does, neither!" Happy Jackwas heart and soul the slave of the chef. "If Chip don't care, I'llride over to Nelson's and git some eggs. Jakie said he'd make somemore uh that pudding if he had some. It ain't but six or seven miles."
"Should you but obtain the juvenile hen, yes, I should be delighted toserve the chicken salad for luncheon. It is the great misfortune thatthe fresh vegetable are not obtain, but I will do the best andsubstitute with a cleverness fich will conceal the defect--yes?"Jakie's caps and aprons had lost their first immaculate freshness, buthis manner was as royally perfect as ever and his smile as wistfullyfriendly.
"Well, I'll ask Chip about it," Happy Jack yielded.
Eggs and young chickens were of a truth strange to a roundup in fullblast, but so was a chef like Jakie, and so were the salads, stuffedolives and cream puffs; and the white caps and the waxed mustache andthe beautiful flow of words and the smile. The Happy Family was in nocondition, mentally or digestively, to judge impartially. A month agothey would have whooped derision at the suggestion of riding anywhereafter fresh eggs and "juvenile hens," but now it seemed to them verynatural and very necessary. So much for the demoralization of expertcookery and white caps and a smile.
Chip also seemed to have fallen under the spell. It may have been thatthe heavenly peace which wrapped the Flying U was, in his mind, tooprecious to be lightly disturbed. At any rate he told Happy Jackbriefly to "Go ahead, if you want to," and so left unobstructed thepath to the chicken salad and cream puffs. Happy Jack wiped his handsupon an empty flour sack, rolled down his shirtsleeves and hurried offto saddle a horse.
Happy Jack did not realize that he was doing two thirds of the workabout the cook-tent, but that was a fact. Because Jakie could notdrive the mess-wagon team, Happy Jack had been appointed hisassistant. As assistant he drove the wagon from one camping place toanother, "rustled" the wood, peeled the potatoes, tended fires andwashed dishes, and did the thousand things which do not require experthands, and which, in time of stress, usually falls to thehorse-wrangler. Jakie was ever smiling and always promising, in hispurring voice, to cook something new and delicious, and left with theleisure which Happy's industry gave him, he usually kept his promise.
"Now, Mr. Happy," he would smile, "I am agreeable to place theconfidence in your so gracious person that you prepare the potatoes,yes? And that you attend to the boiling of meat and the unpacking andarrangement of those necessary furnishings for fich you possess thegreat understanding. And I shall prepare the so delicious dessert ofthe floating island, what you call in America. Yes? Our friends willhave the so deligh
tful astonishment when they arrive. They shallexclaim and partake joyously, is it not? And for your reward, Mr.Happy, I shall be so pleased to set aside a very extensive portion ofthe delicious floating island, so that you can eat no more except youendanger your handsome person from the bursting. Yes?" And oh, thesmile of him!
A man of sterner stuff than Happy Jack would have fallen before suchguile and would have labored willingly--nay, gladly in the service ofso delightful a diplomat as Jakie. Except for that willing service,Jakie would have been quite overwhelmed by the many and peculiarduties of a roundup cook. He would have been perfectly helpess beforethe morning and noon packing of dishes and food, and the skilful hastenecessary to unpack and prepare a meal for fifteen ravenous appetiteswithin the time limit would have been utterly impossible. Jakie was achef, trained to his profession in well-appointed kitchens and withassistance always at hand; which is a trade apart from cooking for aroundup crew.
Happy Jack, in the fulness of time, returned with the eggs. That is,he returned with six eggs and a quart or two of a yellowish mixturethickly powdered with shell. He took the pail to Jakie and he saw theseraphic smile fade from his face and an unpleasant glitter creep intohis eyes.
"It is the omelet fich you furnish, yes? The six eggs, they will notmake the pudding. The omelet--I do not perceive yet the desirablenessof the omelet. And the juvenile hen--yes?"
"Aw, they wouldn't sell no chickens." Happy Jack's face had gone longand scarlet before the patent displeasure of the other. "And my horsewas scared uh the bucket and pitched with me."
Jackie looked again into the pail, felt gingerly the yellow mess anddiscovered one more egg which retained some semblance of its originalform. "The misfortune distresses me," he murmured. "It is that youreturn hastily, Mr. Happy, and procure other eggs fich you will placeunbroken in my waiting hands, yes?"
Happy Jack mopped his forehead and glanced at the sun, burning hotlydown upon the prairie. They had made a short move that day and it wasstill early. But the way to Nelson's and back had been hot andtumultuous and he was tired. For the first time since his abjectsurrender to the waxed smile, Happy Jack chafed a bit under the yokeof voluntary servitude. "Aw, can't yuh cook something that don't takeso many eggs?" he asked in something like his old, argumentative tone.
The unpleasant glitter in the eyes of Jakie grew more pronounced; greweven snaky, in the opinion of Happy Jack. "It is that I am no morepermitted the privilege of preparing the food for fich I have thejudgment, yes?" His voice purred too much to be convincing. "It isthat I am no more the chef to be obeyed by my servant?"
"Aw, gwan! I ain't anybody's servant that I ever heard of!" Happy Jackfelt himself bewilderedly slipping from his loyalty. What had comeover Jakie, to act like this? He walked away to where there was someshade and sat down sullenly. Jakie's servant, was he? Well! "Thedarned little greasy-faced runt," he mumbled rebelliously, andimmediately felt the better for it.
Two cigarettes brought coolness and calm. Happy Jack wanted very muchto lie there and take a nap, but his conscience stirred uneasily. Theboys were making a long circle that day and would come in with theappetites--and the tempers--of wolves. It occurred to Happy Jack thattheir appetites were much keener than they had ever been before, andhe sat there a little longer while he thought about it; for HappyJack's mind was slow and tenacious, and he hated to leave a new ideauntil he had squeezed it dry of all mystery. He watched Jakie movingin desultory fashion about the tent--but most of the time Jakie stayedinside.
"I betche the boys ain't gitting enough old stand-by-yuh chuck," hedecided at length. "Floatin' island and stuffed olives--for them thatlikes stuffed olives--and salad and all that junk _tastes_ good--but Ibetche the boys need a good feed uh beans!" Which certainly wasbrilliant of Happy Jack, even if it did take him a full hour to arriveat that conclusion. He got up immediately and started for thecook-tent.
"Say, Jakie," he began before he was inside, "ain't there time enoughto boil a pot uh beans if I make yuh a good fire? I betche the boyswould like a good feed--"
"A-a-hh!" Happy Jack insisted afterward that it sounded like thesnarling of a wolf over a bone. "Is it that you come here to give theorders? Is it that you _insult_?" Followed a torrent of molten French,as it were. Followed also Jakie, with the eyes of a snake and thetoothy grin of a wild animal and with a knife which Happy Jack hadnever seen before; a knife which caught the sunlight and glitteredhorridly.
Happy Jack backed out as if he had inadvertently stirred a nest ofhornets. Jakie almost caught him before he took to his heels. Happynever waited to discover what the new cook was saying, or whether hewas following or remaining at the tent. He headed straight for theprotection of the horse-wrangler, who watched his cavvy not far away,and his face was the color of stale putty.
The horse-wrangler saw him coming and came loping up to meet him."What's eating yuh, Happy?" he inquired inelegantly.
"Jakie--he's gone nutty! He come at me with a knife, and he'd uhkilled me if I'd stayed!" Happy Jack pantingly recovered himself. "Ididn't have no time ta git my gun," he added in a more natural tone,"or I'd uh settled him pretty blame quick. So I come out to borrowyourn. I betche _I'll_ have the next move."
The horse-wrangler grinned heartlessly. "I reckon he's about halfshot," he said, sliding over in the saddle and getting out theinevitable tobacco sack and papers. "Old Pete Williams rode past whileyou were gone, loaded to the guards and with a bottle uh whisky ineach saddle-pocket and two in his coat. He gave me a drink, and thenhe went on and stopped at camp. He was hung up there for quite aspell, I noticed. I didn't _see_ him pass any uh the vile liquor tolittle Jakie, but--" he twirled a blackened match stub in his fingersand then tossed it from him.
"Aw, gwan! Jakie wouldn't touch nothing when he was in town," HappyJack objected. "I betche he's gone crazy, or else--"
"Well," interrupted the horse-wrangler, "I've told yuh what I know andall I know. Take it or leave it." He rode back to turn the lead-horsefrom climbing a ridge where he did not want the herd to follow. He didnot lend Happy Jack his gun, and for that reason--perhaps--Jakieremained alive and unpunctured until the first of the riders cameloping in to camp.
The first riders happened to be Pink and Big Medicine. They were metby a tearful, contrite Jakie--a Jakie who seemed much inclined toweeping upon their shirt-fronts and to confessing all his sins,particularly the sin of trying to carve Happy Jack. That perturbedgentleman made his irate appearance as soon as he found thatreinforcements had arrived.
Big Medicine disengaged himself from the clinging arms of the chef,sniffed suspiciously and wiped away the tears from his vest. "Well,say," he bellowed in his usual manner of trying to make all ChouteauCounty hear what he had to say, "I ain't t' blame if he got away onyuh. Yuh hadn't ought to uh done it--or else yuh oughta made a cleanjob of it sos't we could hang yuh proper. Supper ready?"
"It is that the supply of eggs is inadequate," wept Jakie, steadyinghimself against the tent-pole while he wiped his eyes upon his apron."Because of it I could not prepare the floating island--and withoutthe dessert I have not the heart to prepare the dinner, yes? It isthat I am breaking of the heart that I assail the good friend of me.Oh, Mr. Happy, it is that I crave pardon!"
Happy Jack came near taking to his heels again when he saw Jakie startfor him; he did back up hastily, and his evident reluctance to embraceand forgive started afresh the tears of remorse. Jakie wailed volublyand, catching Pink unaware, he wept upon his bosom.
Others came riding in, saw the huddle before the mess-tent and came upto investigate. With every fresh arrival Jakie began anew hisconfession that he had attempted to murder his good friend, Mr. Happy,and with every confession he wept more copiously than before.
The Happy Family tacitly owned itself helpless. A warlike cook theycould deal with. A lazy cook they could kick into industry. A weeping,wailing, conscience-stricken cook, a cook who steadfastly refused tobe comforted, was an absolutely new experience. They told him to buckup, found that he only broke out a
new, threatened, cajoled and argued.Jakie clung to whoever happened to be within reach and mixed theEnglish language unmercifully.
"Happy, you'll have to forgive him," said Weary at last. "Go tell himyuh don't feel hard towards him. We want some supper."
"Aw, gwan. I _ain't_ forgive him, and I never will. I--"
Big Medicine stepped into the breach. With his face contorted into agrin to crimple one's spine, with a voice to make one's knees buckle,he went up to Happy Jack and thrust that horrible grin into Happy'svery face. "By cripes, you forgive Jakie, and you do it quick!" hethundered. "Think you're going to ball up the eating uh the wholeoutfit whilst you stand around acting haughty? Why, by cripes, I'vekilled men in the Coconino County for _half_ what you're doing! You'llwish, by cripes, that Jakie _had_ slit your hide; you'll consider thatwoulda been an easy way out, before I git half through with yuh. Youwalk right up and shake hands with him, and you tell him that yuh lovehim to death and are his best friend and always will be! Yuh _hear_me?"
Happy Jack heard. The Happy Family considerately moved aside and lefthim a clear path, and they looked on without a word while he tookJakie's limp hand, muttered tremulously, "Aw, fergit it, Jakie. I knowyuh didn't mean nothing by it, and I forgive yuh," and backed awayagain.
Jakie wept, this time with gratitude. They got him inside a tent,unrolled his bed and persuaded him to lie down upon it. They searchedthe mess-box, found all that was left of a quart bottle of whisky,took it outside and divided it gravely and appreciatively amongthemselves. There was not much to divide.
Happy Jack took charge of the pots and pans, with the whole HappyFamily to help him hurry supper, while Jakie forgot his woes in sleepand the sun set upon a quiet camp.
Next morning, Jakie was up and cooking breakfast at the appointedtime, and the camp felt that the incident of the evening before mightwell be forgotten. The coffee was unusually good that morning, evenfor Jakie. He was subdued, was Jakie, and his soft, brown eyes werehumble whenever they met the eyes of Happy Jack. His smile wasinfrequent and fleeting, and his voice more deprecating than ever.Aside from these minor changes everything seemed the same as beforethe sheepmen had stopped at camp.
That afternoon, however, came an aftermath in the shape of Happy Jackgalloping wildly out to where the others were holding a herd and"cutting out." He was due to come and help, so nobody paid anyattention to his haste, though it was his habit to take his time. Heshot recklessly by the outer fringes of the "cut" and yelled in a wayto stampede the whole bunch. "Jakie's _dying_," he shouted, wild-eyed."He's drunk up all the lemon extract and most uh the v'nilla before Icould stop him!"
Chip and Weary, riding in hot haste to the camp, found that it wastrue as far as the drinking was concerned. Jakie was stretched uponhis back breathing unpleasantly, and beside him were two flat bottlesof half-pint size, one empty and the other very nearly so; the tentand Jakie's breath reeked of lemon and vanilla. Chip sent back forhelp.
For the second time the Flying U roundup was brought to an involuntarypause because of its cook. There was but one thing to do, and Chip didit. He broke camp, loaded Jakie into the bed-wagon, and headed at agallop for Dry Lake in an effort to catch the next train for GreatFalls. Whether he sent Jakie to the hospital or to the undertaker wasa question he did not attempt to answer; one thing was certain,however, that he must send him to one of those places as soon as mightbe.
That night, just before the train arrived, he sent another telegram toJohnny Scott at rush rates. He said simply:
"Send another cook immediately this one all in am returning him in baggage coach this train.
"C. BENNETT."
Just after midnight he went to the station and received an answer,which is worth repeating:
"C. BENNETT, Dry Lake: Supply cooks running low am sending only available don't kill this one or may have to go without season on cooks closed fine attached to killing, running with dogs or keeping in captivity this one drunk look for him in Pullman have bribed porter. J.G. SCOTT."
It was sent collect, which accounts perhaps for the facetious remarkswhich it contained.
It was morning when that train arrived, because it was behind time forsome reason, but Chip, Weary, Pink and Big Medicine were at the depotto meet it. The new cook having been reported drunk, they wanted tomake sure of getting him off the train in case he proved unruly. Theywere wise in the ways of intoxicated cooks. They ran to the steps ofthe only Pullman on the train and were met by the grinning porter.
"Yas sah, he's in dah--but Ah cyan't git 'im off, sah, to save mahsoul," he explained toothily. "Ah put 'im next de front end, sah, buthe's went to sleep and Ah cyan't wake 'em up, an' Ah cyan't tote 'emout nohow. Seems lak he weighs a ton!"
"By cripes, _we'll_ tote him out," declared Big Medicine, pushingahead of Chip in his enthusiasm. "You hold the train, and we'll git'im. Show us the bunk."
The porter pointed out the number and retreated to the steps that hemight signal the conductor. The four pushed up through the vestibuleand laid hold upon the berth curtains.
"Mamma!" ejaculated Weary in a stunned tone. "Look what's in here,boys!"
They thrust forward their heads and peered in at the recumbent form.
"Honest to grandma--it's old Patsy!" The voice of Big Medicine broughtheads out all along down the car.
"Come out uh that!" Four voices made up the chorus, and Patsy openedhis eyes reluctantly.
"Py cosh, I not cook chuck for you fellers ven I'm sick," he mumbleddazedly.
"Come out uh that, you damned Dutch belly-robber!" bawled Big Medicinejoyously, and somewhere behind a curtain a feminine shriek was heardat the shocking sentence.
Four pairs of welcoming hands laid hold upon Patsy; four pairs ofstrong arms dragged him out of the berth and through the narrow aisleto the platform. The conductor, the head brakeman and the porter werechafing there, and they pulled while the others pushed. So Patsy wasdeposited upon the platform, grumbling and only half sober.
"Anyway, we've got him back," Weary remarked with much satisfactionthe next day when they were once more started toward the range land."When Irish blows in again, we'll be all right."
"By cripes, yuh just give me a sight uh that Irish once, and he'll_come_, if I have to rope and drag 'im!" Big Medicine took his own wayof intimating that he held no grudge. "Did yuh hear what Patsy said,by cripes, when he was loading up the chuck-wagon at the store? Heturned in all that oil and them olives and _anchovies_, yuh know, andhe told Tom t' throw in about six cases uh blueberries. I was standin'right handy by, and he turns around and scowls at me and says: 'Pycosh, der vay dese fellers eats pie mit derselves, I have to fill oopder wagon mit pie fruit alreatty!' And then the old devil turns aroundwith his back to me, but yuh can skin me for a coyote if I didn'tketch a grin on 'is face!"
They turned and looked back to where Patsy, seated high upon themess-wagon, was cracking his long whip like pistol shots and swearingin Dutch at his four horses as he came bouncing along behind them.
"Well, there's worse fellers than old Patsy," Slim admittedponderously. "I don't want no more Jakie in mine, by golly."
"I betche Jakie cashes in, with all that lemon in him," prophesiedHappy Jack with relish. "Dirty little Dago--it'd serve him right.Patsy wouldn't uh acted like that in a thousand years."
They glanced once more behind them, as if they would make sure thatthe presence of Patsy was a reality. Then, with content in theirhearts, they galloped blithely out of the lane and into the grassyhills.
THE END.
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